


it's easy

by withaflashoflove



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 03:39:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9302507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withaflashoflove/pseuds/withaflashoflove
Summary: "Right now, he’s got his chin on her shoulder, watching her type the words to the screen, and he’s whispering something about her prose, but she’s distracted by the smell, by his breath on her neck, and she’s really supposed to be focusing on this article, otherwise she’ll start typing nonsense like I really wanna kiss you onto the white page.This article has nothing to do with kissing.It’s about houses.Maybe there’s a connection there somewhere."





	

He tastes the coffee on her lips as the tips of his fingers brush against her waist.

It’s a new drink, one he isn’t used to kissing, and he thinks maybe she’s decided to switch it up.

She likes to do that sometimes, likes to switch things up on him, when he’s least expecting it. Like buy different coffee if they’re not drinking it together or take the long way home if they’re not walking hand in hand, after work, after he picks her up and they decide to walk instead of run.

It’s nice.

It’s calm.

Right now, she’s decided to pin him to the wall outside of CCPN, with different flavored lips and all, and she’s got her hands gripping his lapels instead of on the nape of his neck, and Barry likes this, likes that she keeps him on his feet even when his knees are shaking.

* * *

She decides she likes him best when he’s working. There’s something ridiculously pretty about his sleeves rolled up and his forearms tensed and his body hunched over. The microscope she bought him is still there, and Iris wonders if she should buy him a new one for Christmas this year. She’s been browsing the markets, already knows of at least two new models that he’d like.

But maybe she should buy him something else instead.

Like a new chair.

Or tickets to the CSI Conference coming up.

Those both seem lame.

The microscope was too. But he liked that. Still uses it everyday, and Iris likes that there’s a little bit of her in his lab.

When she presses her body against his and wraps her arms around his waist, he doesn’t jump. His forehead does bump into the lens of the microscope and she buries her mouth into his back to keep from laughing.

She kisses him there too for good measure.

His hands cover hers and just when she thinks he’ll keep working, like he sometimes does when she does this, he spins around and craters her face in his hand, looks at her like he’s looking at science, and Iris pushes up to kiss him right there.

* * *

On the ledge, her legs keep swinging and Barry worries if she’ll get too distracted with the moonlight that she’ll let herself fall backwards.

Not like he wouldn’t catch her.

Not like she’d ever do that.

But he worries, because he can’t help it sometimes, because this is their rooftop and the impossible happens here.

Like now, where he’s standing between her swinging legs and he’s watching her watch the skyline and he thinks he could run her there if she wanted it, all the way to the moon or maybe the tallest building.

Whatever she wants.

It’s one of the rare times she’s taller than he is and she’s playing with his hair while her eyes play with the city lights. Barry likes this, likes being the shorter one, likes when she’s protecting him, when she’s all gentle and solid, when his hands are resting on her restless thighs and it’s tickling his palms because she keeps moving.

He moves too much. Tonight, he’s still. But he’s watching her.

She turns her head to look at him, and Barry sees the smile glow on her face. Sometimes he can’t get out the words.

But he leans up to kiss her. And she opens her mouth and lets him in and he thinks maybe they’d both fall backwards.

He’s not sure who would save who. 

* * *

Long nights in the newsroom feel like home, now more than ever. She likes the smell of paper and the paradoxical quiet of the constant buzz.

He’s there too, Barry is, bringing her her third cup of coffee, even though he’s tried convincing her that she shouldn’t drink anymore.

Not like she’d listen.

Not like he didn’t know it was a losing battle.

But he tried, every time he stayed with her, into the depth of the night, he tried convincing her to drink less coffee. Usually it ended with him making her a fresh pot and giving her a kiss as an apology for being so stubborn.

She knew he liked licking the coffee off her lips.

He told her he stopped drinking it. Switched over to tea because there was already too much caffeine in her kisses and he didn’t want to risk running too fast.

Right now, he’s got his chin on her shoulder, watching her type the words to the screen, and he’s whispering something about her prose, but she’s distracted by the smell, by his breath on her neck, and she’s really supposed to be focusing on this article, otherwise she’ll start typing nonsense like _I really wanna kiss you_ onto the white page.

This article has nothing to do with kissing.

It’s about houses.

Maybe there’s a connection there somewhere.

Either way, he’s still staring and she’s still typing and she reaches over to grab her cup of hot coffee, but before she puts it to her lips, he sneaks in and steals a sip.

When she looks at him, he gives her this smug smile, and it’s her turn to taste the coffee off his lips.

* * *

They’re really quiet in the mornings.

It’s like this secret game to see who can go longer without breaking the silence.

There’s a lot of kissing. Lazy kisses. Sloppy kisses.

He likes grazing his fingers along her spine and she likes feeling his belly, abs and all. Sometimes they stop kissing and look at each other.

The sun shines through the window of their apartment.

Outside, they hear the cars and clicks of heels along the pavement.

Inside, they’re still wrapped up in each other, under the covers, between the pillows.

He tells her she’s beautiful.

She tells him he is too.

And it’s that easy.

As easy as making coffee. And walking home. And kissing. And falling.

It’s all easy.


End file.
